Hello,

It's The Nameless One again. I'm just gonna get straight to the point. What happens when you have one discouraging thing right after another befall you? And it's not just a bunch of big discouraging things, but all the little things that eventually turn into this one, big despair.

You know, like, when you're late for a meeting or an appointment. Or when someone really gets on your nerves and you lash out at them, and later regret it. Or when you break a dish. Or how about when you can't find something at a time when you really need it. Or when you get a nice outfit soiled. All those little discouraging things that get you down. And you wonder why they have to happen. Wouldn't life be better without them?

But, what about character and learning the lessons of life bit by bit? What about being able to appreciate the good things in life and learning how much attitudes really matter? What would happen to all that if those annoyances were to disappear?

The everyday grind of life. The things that frustrate and annoy you; the things that aggravate and anger you; the things that. . .that are a part of the life we live, and part of the stuff God uses to mold and shape us in His likeness. The everyday grandeur of life. The things that make you smile and laugh; the things that bring you joy and happiness; the things that. . .that are a part of the life we live, and part of the stuff God uses to mold and shape us in His likeness.






It's nice to know that God uses both in your life. To know that you can learn from your mistakes and move on, and that God has a plan and purpose for your life that includes all the moments--both the good and the not-so-good.

Signing out,
The Nameless One

P.S. As The Nameless One, I've never done this before, but I'd like to share a song that goes hand in hand with this post and helped inspire it: This Is The Stuff

So sweet and smiley
So nice and warm-hearted
The strengths of a person,
So simply one-sided.

Their deeds and accomplishments
Their daring and bravery.
But their secrets and struggles,
Still kept in slavery.


The aches and the pains
The failures and bleakness
All kept inside,
A basket of weakness.

The lies shroud out
Any hope that you hold.
Crushing, destroying
The misery unfolds.

It must spill out,
It must be told.
The pain can't hide,
Can no longer withhold

To tell a friend,
And shed some tears.
Release it all,
And calm your fears.

Not alone in all the muddle.
Not alone in the fight.
Many know the rugged path
And how it ends so bright.

The deeper each one probes the heart,
A bond there is to find.
Growing ever stronger,
And being ever refined.

For Christ said,
"My grace is sufficient for thee,
My power made perfect in weakness."
Oh, the wonderful love of a Savior as He.

A basketful of weakness
Made strong through the Blood.
So perfect in splendor,
Overflows as a flood.

Oh, thank God,
I'm a basketful of weakness.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
~2 Corinthians 12:9

With their candor and sayings,
With their games and their playings.
With their cute little noses,
And their made-up noises.

With their scrapes and their bruises,
With their breaths and their snoozes.

With their crayons and their numbers
With their curiosity and blunders.

With their tears and their hurts,
With their scares and their blurts.

With their trust and simplicity,
And their amazing authenticity.

The spices of life to spread 'ore the world,
God's gift to us, stories to unfold.

Beating, beating

Life it gives.

Red as rubies

As it lives.



Deeper, deeper

Deeper still.

Getting darker

As it will.



Searching, searching

Finding sin.

Black as coal

Deep within



Crying, crying

Crying out.

Its helpless plea

And fearful doubt



Stretching, stretching

Out its arms.

The Spirit moves,

And calms alarms.



Gently, gently

Washing clean.

Making new

The heart once mean.



Slowly, slowly

Like the clay.

The Potter shapes

Day by day.



Turning, turning

The hardened heart.

Lovely softening,

The rough, torn parts.



Painful, painful

As it is.

The heart can smile

And rejoices.



Lovely, lovely

The heart drawn to Him

Never by force,

And filled to the brim.